


take care if you love us (but don't back away)

by dysfunctionalbatfam



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Good dad!Bruce, Justice league meets the batfamily, Short Story, Tim doesn't give a shit anymore, and is traumatized, as for now if I don't update it, kind of, no editing we die like fools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysfunctionalbatfam/pseuds/dysfunctionalbatfam
Summary: In which the Justice League goes and "protects" the targeted Batfamily while Bruce goes and hunts for the assassins, but they're in for a surprise. After all, the Batfamily was Batman's kids.
Relationships: Bruce & Batkids, Justice League & Batkids
Comments: 23
Kudos: 820





	take care if you love us (but don't back away)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nxttime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxttime/gifts).



It was the normal day in the Watchtower; the esteemed heroes were lounging in the living room of their base, celebrating their rare break from fighting.

Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, and Green Arrow were all assembled on the large semi-circular couch, and Barry and Ollie were having an argument about pizza while the rest were just chatting or resting.

The zeta-beams sounded, acknowledging the Batman’s arrival. He was greeted with the fighting duo quieting and the rest smiling at him. His shoulders were slumped, different from usual, and his whole body radiated _stressed_ and _tired_.

“How are you doing, Bruce?” Diana smiled, putting her notice away.

Bruce hesitated. “I.. have you ask you all for a favor,” he admitted sheepishly, but with his usual flat tone. 

Barry’s eyes quickly widened, matched by the rest of the League’s; Batman was _not_ one to ask for help, and if he was, it must be a serious issue.

The Bat continued. “An unknown force is targeting my children. I will be pursuing them, and I trust you all to protect them to your best abilities.”

“Batman has _children_?” Barry screeched, yelping as he was silenced by Bruce’s bat-glare.

With a swish of his cape, the man was gone again.

~

“Are you sure this is his house?” Clark asked Diana, who nodded. He went slowly and cautiously up to the large wooden doors of the Wayne Manor and knocked, rapping his knuckles against the wood in three strong taps. The door soon swung open, with an elderly man greeting them.

“You must be the Justice League, I presume?” The man did not seem at all surprised, as unknownst to them, he was never surprised.

“Batman has a _butler_?” Barry exclaimed, cut off by a sharp jab from Oliver. “Ow, what was that for?”

Alfred merely raised an eyebrow in response. “You may call be Alfred,” he answered calmly, “And I am not just a butler. I took care of him when he was just in diapers.”

Barry burst into snickers, and the others smiled at the image. Just then, a loud _bang_ sounded further back into the house, followed by crashes and screaming. The League was a bit surprised and scared by the noise, but if the butler didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be so serious. They entered the house at Alfred’s request, and soon reached the living room, where the voices grew louder.

“Get off, Todd!” A shrill screech came from the smallest boy, who seemed to be ten. His features vaguely resembled Bruce’s; sharp jawline and eyes, except his were piercing green.

“Not until you get off Tim! You’re going to kill him, you little shit! What would Bruce say?” snapped back the tallest teen. He was dressed in a leather jacket, strange for the weather, and head a strip of white bang in the front his fading-to-red black hair, and his eyes were blue with flecks of acidic green that seemed to glow. His retort seemed to make the smaller one falter, losing his grip on “Tim.” The leather-jacket teen took that opportunity to wrench the knife out of the other’s grip, letting it land in a bloody puddle.

Tim didn’t even look that riled up nor offended at a knife being held against his throat moments ago. He just tiredly rubbed his neck and lay down, face-planting into the carpet. 

The kid scowled, “Drake started it! Besides, just because you, _unfortunately_ , came back from the dead, doesn’t mean he can’t either.”

“Todd” balled his fists, seemingly agitated at the smaller’s snide comment, and picked up the knife as if he was going to stab him. They performed a series of complicated stabs and movements before Todd got the kid into a headlock.

“Jason! Dami!” Another man came running into the room, only half-changed out of his pajamas. “How many times did I tell you not to do that, or I will have to pull out the Get-Along shirt?”

The fighting pair stopped and shuddered at the threat before Todd released the kid and they stood, sheepishly looking at the ground.

“I was just trying to make sure Demon Spawn doesn’t kill Timbo!” Todd, or Jason (Were they the same people, the League wondered.) protested.

The man’s mouth opened to reprimand him before he noticed Tim passed out on the floor and the droplets of blood, and he screamed, “Tim! What happened to him?”

“He said that I would never be as good as-” The boy now dubbed “Dami” started, before he was cut off by an awkward “Ahem.”

The flyting boys all froze, spinning around to see the wide-eyed and gaping League, with Clark standing in the front. Dami’s hands dropped to his side, and he scowled. “Kent.”

The man who broke up the fight suddenly brightened, bouncing over and sticking out his hand for Clark to shake. “Hi, Clark! I’m Dick, and the small one is Damian-” a scowl and some swearing - “the tallest teen is Jason, and the one,” Dick winced, “currently unconscious is Tim.” He then stopped, as if remembering something, and called into his phone, “Steph! Cass! Come to the living room and bring Babs if you find her!” 

(He later explained the Manor was so big they had to call each other through a phone or other device to communicate.)

Soon a redhead in a wheelchair came rolling in, followed by a bubbly blonde and a shorter Asian girl. The blonde’s bright blue eyes widened at the sight of Clark, and grinned. “Supes is here!” The redhead just examined him through her glasses, unexcited, and the black-haired girl gave a small, timid wave.

“This is Cassandra,” Dick continued, gesturing at each member as he spoke. “And the wheelchair girl is Barbara and that’s Stephanie.” He turned to Barbara, “Where’s Duke?”

“He’s out,” she answered smoothly, before turning her chair and wheeling back out.

A wise choice.

**Author's Note:**

> I just adore this trope so much


End file.
